8/31/2014
Rows and rows of grapevines in the desert. Running on the Old Julian Highway was a real treat. It felt like I had the company of a Porche car club. The approaching caravans of the legendary sports car came in various styles and colors. Interspersed between caravans were bikes. There were plenty of sporty models but there were also the kind that required manpower. Every now and then, under yet another hot sun, someone would ask me if I needed help. The sights along Old Julian were ranches, wineries, and animals. I didn’t know we had camels here in California. Again I got to pick fruit right by the road. The two pomegranates I picked today were like baseballs compared to the softballs I picked yesterday. That road was almost eight miles of today’s journey.
All good things come to an end. The Old Julian Highway road ended when I took a right turn onto the 78. What didn’t end were the sports cars and bikes. The thirteen mile single road journey was a straight shot but the road was far from straight. Hills and turns welcomed my feet. The lungs felt labored today. I found that I gasped for air and I wondered to myself if that was what it felt like to be out of shape. The run turned to a trot and eventually became a walk. When I passed a place that brewed Hard Cider I wanted to stop in and see if they would donate a glass for the cause. Right next to it I found an old mining company with a bunch of gold rush equipment. It was a gem of a find and I was excited to experience it. Julian was only a couple miles away. The moment I set foot onto main street the aroma of apple spice, popcorn, and freshness shot into my nose. It was everything Norman Rockwell. Maybe it was like the town where Clark Kent grew up. Main street was just a stone’s throw away from Butterfield Bed & Breakfast. I felt I walked into a garden in heaven when I set foot onto the property. The lush lavender and rosemary blended nicely with the blackberry bushes and apple trees. The stay would be peace….
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